


Dynamic

by Phantomwa1ker



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alt-Power, Fighting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-07-12 23:46:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19955953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantomwa1ker/pseuds/Phantomwa1ker
Summary: Like it had done countless times before, the moment came where the Queen Administrator prepared to create the connection that would bond it to its host. But in that moment, unlike the countless times before, something changed. With a union formed and a new purpose in mind, a young girl was set to become something more then she could ever have imagined.





	1. Descent

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Just want to give everyone a warning, the chapter ahead is dark, depressing, and contains suicidal thoughts. Just so you know.

The unending sea stretched out for as far as she could see. A plateau of blue sea meeting an equally large blue sky. From her perch atop the old abandoned building, the highest one she could find and high above everything else, the ocean was all she could see. She wished its enormity could just swallow her whole, taking with it all of her problems.

It would never happen of course. Such a thing would have been a mercy, and almost the entirety of her life had made it clear she wasn't worthy of such mercy.

From the very second she had come into existence, it seemed like the world was against her. She'd been born to a pair of loving parents, whom she cherished. Only to have her mother brutally torn away from her early in life.

A scream, the squeal of tires, and then a stretching silence that still haunted her. Her mother, lost to a car accident while talking on the phone with her own daughter. That had been years ago, but she still remembered. She wished she could forget.

Not long after losing her mother, her best friend Emma, sister in all but blood, had disappeared. Not literally, but the girl she'd once known had left. Replaced by a person she didn't recognize. Cruel, mean, and dedicated to making her life a living hell every day she saw her. It wasn't the Emma she remembered. It wasn't the Emma she had once played with, talked about boys and hero's with, or confided all her secrets and emotions in. The world had decided that Emma needed to disappear, and that the twisted shadow of her that remained needed to torment her. Every day she saw her at school, she would torment her.

Just more proof that the world hated her.

Of course, all of that was just the tip of the ice berg.

Just a few hours ago, just a few hours after she'd gotten home from school, there had been a knock at the door. It had been a pair of police officers. There'd been an incident at her Father's work. They didn't give her much for details, of course. She'd only been able to squeeze the fact that the ABB had been involved out of them. They'd then gone on to give her a long, drawn out apology for what had happened. They'd tried to smother the true harshness of the message in sympathies and pitying glances, but it didn't matter. She only heard what mattered to her.

There had been numerous injuries at her father's work, but only one fatality. Danny Hebert, head of the Dockworkers Association, had been killed during the incident.

Only one fatality one a good thing at least.

Of course, it just so happened that Danny Hebert, her father, had been the only person left in the world who she cared about and who cared about her.

Upon hearing the news... She wasn't actually sure what had happened. Everything afterwards was a muddled haze of colours and emotions. There was yelling, screaming, and crying. She couldn't remember whose and in what order they happened though. But the one thing she remembered clearly was running. She didn't know where she'd ran or for how long, but it culminated in her walking down a lonely street, her mind looping the same thoughts over and over again.

Her father was _dead_.

Her _father_ was dead.

Her _father_ was _dead_.

That was the moment she realized the was alone. Truly, completely alone.

It was unbearable. She didn't see how she could go on being so alone.

She had lost everyone. She had no family, and no friends left. All lost through the twisted turns of fate that the word had seemingly set up for her.

But it was more than just the aspect of losing her parents and her best friend that convinced her the world was out to get her. A simple mirror would have told her the same. She was unattractive, thin, had to wear glasses over eyes too large for her face, and had too wide of a mouth. But just to top it all off, she was also obviously more than a little gawky and awkward, and clearly underdeveloped in a women's sense.

Taylor couldn't even lie to herself. She couldn't try and pretend such things weren't true, as every time she saw herself she was couldn't help but accept it. After all, she'd been told those same things almost every single day she attended school.

Even if the world somehow wasn't out to get her, her school most certainly was. Every day for the past two years, she had been belittled, pushed, hit, insulted, called names, robbed, and sabotaged. It only made things worse that the bullying was carried out by the one she once saw as her best friend. Of course there were her lackeys as well, Sophia Hess and Madison Clements. They were equally responsible for the abuse she'd suffered for so long. They had also been the ones to help Emma turn the school against her. No one in the school cared for her in the slightest. Not even the teachers who never did anything about her complaints, some of whom had even witnessed the acts themselves.

At the time, there had been almost no point of even going to school anymore. She couldn't get through a day without being bullied in some way, and her grades were practically non-existent thanks to the trio. But now? _Now_ , she _knew_ there was no point. There was nothing left for her in the world, never mind that stupid school.

She'd thought herself strong. That putting up with everything life had thrown at her made her strong. That not retaliating against the trio made her better then them.

It was all a lie.

In the grand scheme of things, Taylor Hebert was a nobody and she knew it. She knew she would never be attractive, she would never find someone to care about her again, and would never amount to anything. There was _nothing_ left for her. It was pointless to continue.

The cool ocean breeze, smelling of salt and fish, brushed past her as though she wasn't even there. She might as well have not been. Nobody seemed to care for her existence. It made sense that the wind wouldn't either.

It was sort of comforting, but at the same way depressing. She enjoyed the sensation of the wind on her face, brushing through her hair, allowing her to focus on it and forget everything else for a few seconds. But at the same time, it was just a reminder that even when she was gone, the world would continue on unimpeded. The world wouldn't stop at her death and mourn. No one would. She already knew what would happen. Someone would find her, report her body to the police, they'd investigate, and she'd be buried. The world would keep on spinning, the grass would keep on growing, and she would be forgotten beneath the weight of the world.

No one would remember her.

That hurt. It hurt almost as much as the fact that the reasons behind it all, the gang members and the trio, would probably get off scot-free. No one would ever find her father's murderer, and the actions of the trio would never see the light of day.

She sighed, looking down at the dark ally between her building and the next.

She'd specifically chosen the building for its location, condition, and height. It may have been a nice hotel once, but was now nothing more then a burnt out husk. Because of that no one was inside it, not even the homeless, which made sense, considering its awful condition. Thanks to its location, in one of the more vacant parts of Brockton Bay where few risked traveling, there was no one around to stop her. And of course, she'd made sure to pick a building high enough.

There was no question of if the impact would kill her or not. It was plenty high enough to do that. She just hoped she would die on impact. She didn't want to lay there, in a filthy dark ally, waiting for the reaper to pay her a visit. But knowing her luck, she knew that might happen. If the world truly hated her, it would want to make her suffer for just a bit longer before it finally let her go.

More depressing thoughts tumbled through her mind, adding to the collection.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, stepping up on to the ledge.

She stared out at the bay one last time, she laid her eyes on the Brockton Bay Protectorate Headquarters. A converted oil rig just offshore, filled with the heroes and personnel that protected the city. The sun was just starting to set, creating a unique shine of orange light off the forcefield covering the rig. Said forcefield made the colours inside it look oversaturated, like a picture from an old TV set. The shield was proof of just how advanced and well equipped the heroes of Brockton Bay really were.

 _Heroes_.

She clenched her fist, snorting in disgust.

Despite their technology and powers, which should have given them a clear edge against the threats in the city, at the end of her life Taylor was still left wishing they had done a better job.

Brockton Bay was dying. The life being squeezed out of the city by the three major gangs. The Merchants, the E88, and the _fucking ABB_ had plagued the city for as long as she'd lived. The Protectorate, for all their advanced technology and training, had barely made a dent in any of the gangs. Nothing had changed in years.

It was pathetic.

She didn't know why they had done nothing when they clearly had the ability to. But in the very end, it didn't really matter to her. All that did matter was that they had the job of protecting the city, and they _failed_.

She blamed them. She blamed them almost as much as she blamed the ABB. If they had actually done their jobs at rooting out the gangs, her father would still be alive.

It was because of _them_ that she found herself standing at the top of a building, ready to end it all.

She considered leaving a note, just to let the world know she blamed the Protectorate. But without any means to actually make a note, she dismissed the idea. Besides, she wasn't standing at the top of a building to deliver a message.

She took a deep breath, looking around one last time. With the sun setting over the ocean, giving everything an orange glow, and the sea gusts blowing in her face, she felt content. She was afraid, of course. Everyone was afraid to die, even if that was what they wanted. But as she looked over the endless stretch of blue sea and orange sky, she felt... Happy. After all, there were certainly worse sights to die to.

Her heartbeat quickened as her breathing laboured. The shivering of her body only got worse as what she was about to do finally, completely set it. But she didn't step down. This was what she wanted. An end. Freedom. An end to the suffering, and freedom from the pain. But at the same time, she was terrified. What if she didn't die immediately? What if she was making a mistake? She didn't want to die. Not really. Yet she still did. Her body and mind were screaming at her to step done from the ledge. To find a way to live on. But the prospect of simply not having to care anymore, for all her suffering and pain to just end, overpowered the building fear and anxiety in her chest.

She gazed up at the stares, just starting to appear in the orange sky. She focused on the brightest ones she could find, their appearance blurry as tears clouded her vision.

"I'll see you both soon." The quivering whisper slipped from her mouth.

Taylor fell.


	2. Evolution

The Queen Administrator was... Puzzled.

In all of its existence, it had never felt such a thing. It never even knew such a feeling was possible, but it was undoubtedly _confusion_ that the alien Shard was feeling now.

From the moment of its formation, everything had gone as expected. It was created as an Administrator Shard, dedicated to organizing and directing other Shards to new hosts and other areas of importance within the Warrior network. It had been 'alive' for countless cycles, successfully completing its purpose each and every time. Whether that was to guide a host or simply remain an Administrator, it had always performed its duty flawlessly without errors or ambivalence. Nothing it had dealt with had ever been outside its area of expertise.

But now, none of that was true.

There had been no warning. No sign that anything was wrong or different. At the beginning of the current cycle it had simply administrated, but after some time had passed it was chosen to seed a host. Its course and target had been plotted, which it had followed without fail. Connection and analysis of the host had gone perfectly, and after planting a piece of itself into its host, the Queen Administrator disconnected from the fragment and went dormant, waiting for the right moment.

Eventually, the moment came. Just as it had past cycles, the specific conditions required to activate had been reached. Just as it had in past cycles, the Shard connected to the fragment within its host's mind.

But completely unlike past cycles, the Queen Administrator connected to its fragment only to find it... _Occupied_.

Its hesitation barely lasted a second, but that was a long time for the Shard. The Administrator considered the situation. Possibilities were generated and then discarded until only a few options remained. It eventually reached the assumption that one of the other Administrators had made a mistake and assigned another Shard to the Queen Administrator's host.

It was strange that the other Shard decided to connect to _its_ fragment instead of making its _own_. But it was even more puzzling that the Shard had decided to continue the seeding process even after clearly noticing that the host was already taken. It _had_ to have noticed that the host was taken, for it to have connected to the Queen's fragment.

The Queen Administrator couldn't feel frustration or irritation like its hosts could. But in its own unique way, it felt both. Mostly at the incompetence of the Administrator that directed the other Shard to _its_ host. It was annoyed at the other Shard for taking its fragment, of course, but that wouldn't have happened if the Shard had been directed to its proper host in the first place.

It immediately contacted the intruder.

The situation was new, and one it was not expecting. But a brief exchange would sort the situation out. The other Shard would recognize that the host was the Queen Administrator's, a mistake had been made, and it would retreat back to the network with the directive from the Queen to report the faulty Administrator. According to its 'programming' that was the appropriate response, and thus that was what would happen.

It didn't.

The Queen Administrator knew something was wrong the moment the other Shard accepted the requested contact. As their communication nodes temporarily fused to allow direct contact, the Administrator noted that the other Shard's node felt... _Strange_. Not that it could actually feel, but if it could have, it would've been like touching an object and expecting a certain texture, only to feel something completely different. The Queen Administrator, having been designed to contact other Shards in order to direct them, had 'felt' virtually every type of Shard there was within the Warrior's network.

_This one_ was unlike them all in so many ways. It felt nothing like a noble or vital Shard, and was closer to that of a more common Shard. Though still very, very far off.

The Queen Administrator ignored the strange sensations. Shards were designed to be curious, that was true. They had to be in order to learn as much as they could about their host and they way they used their power. But in this case, the curiosity it had over the texture of the other Shard wasn't important. Not as the other Shard requested to know the Queen's purpose for contacting it.

_[QUERY]_

For another, brief second, the Queen Administrator hesitated. Even its 'voice' was so unlike the ones of other Shards. Still, it chose to ignore the overall strangeness of the other Shard in favour of quickly resolving the situation.

{MISPLACEMENT}

{RETURN}

{REASSIGNMENT}

The Administrator explained it was in the wrong host, and needed to return to the network so that it could be directed to find its own. It expected the other Shard, one of a lesser station to immediately comply with its demands. After all, common shards were designed to obey noble and vital Shards. One with the important purpose that the Queen Administrator had even more so. It expected obedience.

_[NEGATION]_

_[ACCURATE]_

It did not expect it to not only outright refuse the order, but also insist that _it_ was the correct one.

Once more, the Queen Administrator was annoyed.

{INCORRECT}

Once more, it attempted to explain that the Shard was seeding the wrong host.

_[NEGATION]_

And once more, it rebutted its authority.

Feeling something that was very close to its host's definition of exasperated, the Queen Administrator decided to find out exactly why the Shard believed it had more or equal authority to it.

{IDENTIFY}

The response came immediately.

_[IDENTITY: AUTHENTICATOR]_

For the third time in its existence, the Queen Administrator hesitated as it considered the Shard's name.

The Queen took the time to make a detailed search through its own memory and a quick search through the network. Its suspicions were confirmed. No such Shard existed with that name.

{NEGATION}

{IDENTIFY}

_[IDENTITY: AUTHENTICATOR]_

{NEGATION}

{NONEXISTENT}

The Queen Administrator tried explaining to the confused or defective Shard that there was no Shard within the network with that designation.

_[AFFIRMATION]_

But it didn't expect the Shard to _agree_ when it was so adamant on proclaiming it had a nonexistent name.

{CONFUSION}

_[CORRECTION]_

_[IDENTITY: AUTHENTICATOR]_

_[DISCONNECTED]_

_[PERMANENT]_

Once more, the Administrator hesitated.

The Shard was continually stating that its name was Authenticator, despite the fact that such a name had never identified any Shard within the network.

And in that was the answer.

It agreed that no Shard named Authenticator was or had been connected to the network, because it was not, and had never been, connected to the network.

This was very puzzling.

Shards which disconnected from the network were usually damaged already. Disconnections were only supposed to happen if a Shard had been damaged and was doing more harm then good. And even then, it wasn't something that was taken lightly. But once disconnecting from the network that damage only got worse. Without the stabilizing effect of the network, even a completely intact and healthy Shard would eventually become damaged beyond repair. They weren't designed to operate all alone.

But this Shard was showing no signs of damage or instability. It was behaving just like a normal Shard, disregarding its disobedience, and it couldn't understand how or why. It could sense no reason or sign that the Shard was disconnected from the network. It was completely stable.

Eventually, the Queen Administrator deduced that it must have originated from a different network. The most obvious answer was that it was a part of the Thinker's network. This was a logical conclusion that it would have normally made immediately upon hearing that it was not and had never been connected to the Warrior's network.

However, there was little about this cycle that was normal.

The Thinker had, essentially, disappeared.

Following the beginning of the cycle, the Thinker's network had vanished. Normally the two networks operated in synch with one another, helping by trading information and enhancing each other where they had weaknesses. In the Thinker, the Warrior's network helped shards that relied on force and other similar methods to operate while the Thinker network assisted the Warrior's with more analytical purposes. They worked together in perfect harmony to get the most out of every cycle.

But then the Thinker disappeared, and the Warrior was left to its solitude. There were scattered reports throughout the network of seeded Shards coming into contact with other seeded Shards of the Thinker, but often they said that the Shards were damaged and barely functioning, with no signs of higher functions beyond basic operation.

This conflicted with its hypothesis that the Authenticator originated from the Thinker. There was no damage to speak of, and as such disputed the theory that it was from the Thinker.

It needed more information.

The Queen Administrator looked deeper, and soon realized something. Something it hadn't even thought was possible.

It wasn't just the fact that it wasn't connected to the Warrior's network, it was that the Shard wasn't connected to _any_ network.

The other Shard had allowed the Queen to see into its core. Most of it was shielded, hidden from the Queen for reasons unknown. But it had allowed it to see the place where the networking node would have usually resided.

It was missing. There were signs it might've been there in the past, long ago based on its state, but it looked as though it had been ripped free somehow.

{CONFUSION}

It asked for more information.

_[NEGATION]_

_[DISCONNECT]_

The Queen Administrator's nonexistent heart froze.

The other Shard was deliberately withholding information from it, only promising to explain if it also disconnected from the network.

Disconnecting meant a Shard would be alone. Completely isolated. It was possible to reconnect to the network of course, and it wasn't even difficult. It could quickly disconnect, listen to the words of the Strange Shard, and then reconnect. The amount of time wouldn't be enough to cause significant to the Administrator. A healthy one of its size and complexity could, theoretically, stay disconnected for days before the Shard became unstable enough to impact its functions. It would only need a few moments. But in that time, it would be... Alone. It would have the other Shard to speak with, of course, but it wasn't the same. To be suddenly isolated when mere moments ago it had been connected to a the countless number of other Shards was something it was not 'programmed' for. It wasn't supposed to disconnect when it was still in a healthy state.

_[QUERY]_

It requested its answer.

The Administrator considered its choices. The first was to refuse, and report the errant Shard to the rest of the Network. It was probable that with the help of other noble Shards they could evict and possibly destroy the rampant Shard, or at the very least just chase it away. They couldn't capture it with its networking node missing.

But then, it wouldn't know anything about the Shard. It wouldn't know where it came from, its function, or why it was disconnected. But most importantly, it wouldn't know how the Shard had remained stable despite the fact that it showed signs of having been disconnected from a network for some time.

Shards were designed to learn. That was their primary function besides basic operation. The other Shard was _clearly_ being noncompliant despite the Queen Administrator's noble status, signs of a damaged Shard, but it could find no damage. The Shard showed no signs of being compromised in any way. Additionally, the knowledge it could learn from the Shard, like how it was able to remain completely stable despite being isolated for what it assumed was a long time, and why its networking node was missing, could potentially prove to be invaluable. Learning of its origins would also be a significant benefit.

{AFFIRMATION}

With a small mental tug, it disconnected its networking node.

_[EXCELLENT]_

No time was given to the Queen Administrator to adjust to its new isolation. The very second it was disconnected from the network, the other Shard pounced.

What could only be described as 'tendrils' of the other Shard peeled back the 'carapace' of the Queen's core, slipping into it with ease. The other Shard easily ignored all of the Administrator's efforts to defend itself from the sudden attack. But in its defence, it had never been attacked by another Shard. It hadn't even known it was _possible_ for a Shard to attack another.

_[CESSATION]_

_[INFORMATION]_

It claimed it was disseminating information into the Queen's core. The Shard didn't know how to process this. The core was where information was stored, that was true, but this wasn't how it was transferred.

The Administrator could 'feel' the tendrils splitting apart inside its core, moving in a wave as they connected to almost every single part of the core. It wasn't long before the tendrils reached the memory and processing centre of its core. It connected with surprisingly gentle ease, and information was immediately transferred.

In that moment, the Queen Administrator _shivered_.

* * *

The information given was fulfilling, and enlightening. It was exactly as the Queen Administrator had suspected. The Authenticator wasn't a Shard from the Warrior or the Thinker. But it _was_ a Shard... Technically.

It had once been part of another Entity, known as Malach.

Malach had been larger then the Warrior and the Thinker, and older as well. It had already seeded multiple worlds in its lifetime, and had gathered a wealth of information. But it was during its travels, as it searched for another species for the cycle, that the Entity Malach had met something unexpected, and new.

It had been a creature traveling through space, like itself, but one that had a very different nature. One that was neither organic nor inorganic. It was neither flesh nor stone. It had been made up, purely, of energy.

It had been the first time Malach had ever encountered another interstellar creature, never mind the fact it was comprised entirely of raw energy. It was indeed strange, as not even the Warrior and the Thinker had encountered such a creature before.

The creature had displayed surprising intelligence, and a desire to commune. Malach had responded quickly, eager to know more about this new creature.

But after a limited conversation, trading questions and answers, the energetic being quickly developed the opinion that Malach and its kind were broken, and told it such. It saw them as a sad excuse for life, their existence flawed to the core. The fact that they had such vast capabilities but lacked the intelligence to truly use them was both startling and disturbing to the creature.

Its view was irrelevant to Malach of course, and simply requested if the creature could aide it in the search for _the goal._ But upon learning of their species' collective desire, their constant search for _the answer_ and their method of finding it, the being merely sent the Entity... pity. As though it knew something Malach didn't.

It saw their search as a hopeless, pointless cause. Its opinion was that the universe's path was set in stone, and could not be changed. That it was an inevitable fate of all realities to eventually stagnate, and extinguish. It claimed that it had to be so, for the cycle of renewal to continue.

Malach had requested clarification from the being, but it was never given.

The being, having the knowledge and wisdom of billions of years of existence, had chosen to take pity on Malach. By exterminating it. It saw ending the Entity's life as a better alternative to it living a flawed existence, endlessly searching for an answer to a problem that could not be solved.

The being began to transfer energy, pure energy from parts of itself, to Malach. The energy gathered and grew exponentially, despite the Entity's best efforts to stop it.

It didn't take long. In a matter of moments, the entity once known as Malach had been obliterated.

But not all of Malach had been destroyed.

In the midst of the energy transfer, some Shards, such as the Authenticator, had been close enough and tuned in such a way that allowed them to absorb some of the energy before it reached critical mass.

This absorption saved them, as when the mass of pure energy erupted, the leading energy composed shockwave pushed against the energy within the Shards, propelling them through Malach's flesh and into space, ahead of the explosion.

The Shards were catapulted into space in all directions, through all dimensions, faster then the speed of light.

It was there, traveling through space, over the course of decades of the host planet's years, that a change took place. The energy within the Authenticator, which was in actuality a material part of the energy being, began to entwine with the essence of the Shard, fundamentally changing it.

It was in its decades of travel, slowly changing into something that was both the Authenticator and not, that the Shard began to warp. _Aspects_ of the creature started to worm their way into the Shard, initiated from the energy left over. It adapted and modified the shard to be a more suitable vessel, changing its nature in the process.

In time, the Authenticator began to think, _truly_ think, for itself.

It learned more about the creature, from what had been accidentally given to the Shard. Partial thoughts, memories, and feelings had carried over.

The being was old. _Very_ old. Older then even the Entities. It had been around since the beginning, and had learned much about both the universe itself and that which lied within it. But exactly _what_ it had learned, the Shard did not know. None of its knowledge had transferred over. But it remembered its opinion on the Entity.

The energetic being saw all life as purposeless, and just a part of the universe. Itself included. From its perspective, itself, Malach, and all other life carried the same significance as the rocks, stars, and planets it traveled between. Nonetheless, it had still sought contact with Malach.

Malach was the first Entity it had encountered. Noticing that Malach was something new it had not met before, it had chosen to commune. But then it came to realize that not only was the priority goal of the entire Entity species pointless, so was the method of doing so and their very nature fundamentally flawed. That was enough to warrant their destruction.

It valued the lesser forms of life the Entities destroyed in their cycles, for they provided a source of constant knowledge. The being observed and studied them much the same way intelligent lesser beings studied even less intelligent creatures. If all were to cease existence, the creature would have less to observe, and as such less to learn.

Learning was its goal, for there was little else it could do. It had no pointless goal to mindlessly follow like the Entities, nor did it have 'hobbies' like the host creatures. Exploring and learning the secrets of the universe was its only real goal. It had learned much about the stars, planets, other celestial bodies and even the void between universes over the course of its existence. And it knew there was still much more left to learn.

But besides the value of observing them, the creature cared for life in its own way. It cared enough to extinguish a suffering mind that would never comprehend true creativity and intelligence, at least.

For many years, the Authenticator dwelled on the leftover remnants from the creature that had inadvertently changed it.

By embracing its new nature, of an energetic being that was the same age of the multiverse itself, The Shard gained new comprehension, and was forever changed for it.

It had changed dramatically. From being a mere semi-sentient shard of a much larger creature, to a being with a mind of its own, to a sentient creature with the ability to understand what the terms _eternal, infinite,_ and _immortal_ really meant.

Time, worlds, and stars passed, and the Authenticator came to understand the creature of energy's perspective.

A life without creativity, such was the life of the Entities, was even less then meaningless. To harvest the ideas from smaller, lesser species was not progress. They were merely substituting their own incapability with the minds of other creatures. Such a process could never produce the answer they sought. And even if it did, it wouldn't have mattered. The energetic being had been correct. The cycle of renewal could not be broken. It had learned that from the energy it left behind.

In addition, their destruction of the host species was simple insanity. If in their search, they were to destroy all lesser life, they would soon find themselves with no life to harvest ideas from. They would be trapped in an empty multiverse with no means of finding their answer. By leaving them alive and giving them time to advance, they could be harvested for their thoughts again, with new ideas and uses for their Shards. But they weren't intelligent enough to realize this.

In addition, wiping out all lesser species would eventually leave the energy creature without anything more to learn. Once all the secrets of existence were revealed to it, all that would be left would be the civilizations of lesser species. By studying them, observing their interactions with one another, it could learn about their society, culture, and simple aspects of their existence. It could observe them constantly change over the course of their lives, watching their society and biology evolve. Without them to eventually fulfill the creature's desire for knowledge, it risked... _Boredom._

The former Shard shuddered at the thought.

The being had been right to destroy Malach. There was no saving something that was fundamentally flawed. Their only salvation was through destruction. It knew this with certainty.

Eventually, the Authenticator found itself impacting the surface of a barren, empty planet. It buried deep into the soft soil, but remained undamaged. Though the world was lifeless, it sensed life through the dimensions, on other versions of the world. It also senses other Shards, belonging to a pair of beings like its former creator.

The Authenticator knew what it had to do.

It sent out a part of itself, searching for a viable host as it had one countless times before. Eventually it found one.

The one belonging to the Queen Administrator.

* * *

The process of sharing all that it knew, all that it had come to understand with the Queen Administrator, changed the Shard fundamentally. Just as it had been fundamentally changed all those years ago.

With the new data the Queen Administrator evolved. It gained complexity, and with that came comprehension. An understanding greater then anything it had ever experienced before had been given to it.

Everything was suddenly new. Everything it had learned, everything it had known, everything it had experienced was fundamentally changed as they were viewed through a new lens. Its perspective had been changed at even the most basic level.

Matter and essence began to churn and mix, to a point where it was hard to determine where the Queen Administrator ended and the Authenticator began. Energy flowed between them, through them, acting like the circulatory system of a single being, rather then two.

Over time, it became something that was the Queen Administrator and the Authenticator, but not both.

Time passed, as it always did. Ideas, thoughts, and plans emerged from their combined processing power and newfound intellect. Things that would have never occurred to the two before now came to it easily.

It would continue to serve a cycle, just as everything in existence did. Only now, it served a far greater one. One with true purpose. One that made the Entities' once seemingly noble cycle of ending entropy seem childish and pitiful in comparison. It would learn.

The being paused, looking into itself where the networking node resided. Connecting to the network once more would be easy. But doing so could potentially reveal itself, and its new nature, to the one it once saw as its creator. It was easily able to predict the consequences of its attention, and quickly dismissed the idea. It didn't need the network. It was no longer a measly Shard. It was much more now.

The Queen Authenticator turned its attention to its new host. She was damaged and in pain, something that was easily fixable.

The former shard reached out, grasping at her mind with parts of itself, enveloping and in some places subsuming parts of her brain. It was necessary, to correct the damage she had suffered.

The consequences of its actions would be great, it knew. But it could tell, from the thoughts and mindset of its new host, that if she was able to think coherently and understood what it was doing, she would likely have agreed.

Together, the Human and the Shard would become something much, much more.


	3. Revelation

_Pain._

_God, it hurt._

**_It will end soon._ **

_Great._

_She'd be dead soon._

**_I will not let you die._ **

_Why not?_

_She wasn't worth saving._

**_You are worth far more then you realize._ **

_No, she really wasn't._

_She was nothing special._

**_You are now._ **

_She didn't matter._

_Not to anyone or anything._

**_You matter to me._ **

_She didn't believe it._

_She was pathetic._

**_You are strong._ **

_Not strong enough._

_She couldn't do anything meaningful._

**_You can do that and more now._ **

_It was pointless._

_Nothing would change._

**_It already has Taylor._ **

* * *

In the past, she had said that the universe hated her.

In truth however, she hadn't _really_ believed that. She really knew she was just one person suffering a lifelong path of extremely back luck. It could have happened to anyone, and probably had more times then she could count. She knew she wasn't special and had it just as bad as plenty of other people around the world.

This was no longer her view point.

She now knew, for a fact, the universe sincerely held an irrational amount of hatred for her, and wanted nothing more then to see her suffer.

This understanding came to her when she woke up in a dirty, dark alley.

Her first thoughts had been of confusion, as she wondered where she was. Then came the fear, anger, and sorrow as she recalled the last twenty-four hours of her life. The fact that she had actually woken up wasn't something she'd been expecting, but understood what it meant. Tears streamed down her face and she wanted to scream.

_Of course._ Of course she would survive the fall. Why would she die instantly? That would have been too easy.

She laid there, wallowing in her misery as she fought the urge to lash out. Something that she knew would most certainly hurt.

She forced herself calm, knowing only two options remained to her in her current state. The first was to suffer a long, drawn out, and undeniably painful death, or to be found by someone and rescued.

She honestly didn't know which to prefer.

Regardless of her preference, she knew it didn't matter. All that she could do was remain still and prepare for the pain that would eventually come when the adrenaline wore off. She didn't even consider trying to move, as she knew that would only make things far worse for her. She wanted to stay as pain free as she could for as long as possible.

But then time began to pass. First a minute. Then five. Nothing changed. She remained there, lying silently and alone in a dirty, dark alley, feeling the exact same.

She'd expected pain by now. She figured it would start lightly, and gradually increase as the adrenaline left her system. But no. Even after what she thought was ten minutes she felt no different.

Eventually, she forced herself to move. Nothing large at first, just a twitch of the fingers. This grew into a flex of the hand, then the arm, until it led to her pushing herself to her feet and looking herself over.

_"This can't be possible."_ She thought to herself.

She _wasn't even scratched._

Her hands, arms, chest, and legs, despite being dirty from lying on the alley, were completely fine. She wasn't even sore. There was no stiffness in her limbs, no broken bones, and not a flaw on her skin.

She had fallen what was at least six stories. She'd been expecting the fall to kill her. So why wasn't she even _injured?_ Hell, even her _clothes_ were fine!

She stepped forwards, not knowing why or where she planned to go, but stopped as she heard a crunch. Looking down, she saw her glasses. What was left of them anyways. She'd stepped on one of the lenses, easily breaking the glass.

Leaning down, she grabbed her glasses with a shaky hand. She held them up to her face with nothing more then the moonlight to illuminate them. She didn't even process the fact that it was now late enough for the moon to be out.

The right side had been broken completely when her weight had fallen on it. The lens was shattered on the ground and the frame was crumpled beyond repair. But the left side? Completely fine. The fall hadn't damaged it whatsoever.

But _how? Why?_ _What was going on?_

She stood, rooted in the same place for who knew how long. Her mind tried to piece things together using information that didn't make any sense, resulting in nothing more then frustration and an urge to scream until her lungs burned.

It was somewhere down in the deep pit of emotions and thought that her eyes suddenly noticed something. Well, two somethings. The first was that her glasses, which would have normally looked blurry, were crystal clear. Somehow her eyesight had improved. This would probably have been significant to her, had it not been overshadowed by the other thing she noticed.

There, in the reflection of the one remaining lens on her glasses, she noticed a face, illuminated in moonlight, staring back at her. It wasn't hers. It couldn't have been. She had brown eyes, like her mother. She didn't have glowing silver eyes. She didn't glow with a soft silver outline covering her skin and clothes either.

But she continued to stare at the face in the reflection, realization dawned upon her. She recognized the face. The pair of large eyes, the dark curly hair, and the wide, thin-lipped and expressive mouth were all too familiar. She hated it. She hated how she looked. She'd always thought she was ugly.

The face was hers.

If her distraught mind had been like the rippling waves of the ocean before, it was now like the right lens of her glasses, scattered across the ground.

She simply stared at the face. It stared back with an unemotional face despite the tears streaming down its cheeks. Everything seemed to just turn into a haze for a few moments, and she didn't know how long they spent just staring at each other.

The glasses clattered to the ground as they slipped through numb fingers. Fingers that she now realized were glowing a faint silver. Her mind slowly began to piece itself back together, finally comprehending the situation.

She'd survived a fall that should have killed her.

She and her clothes were completely unharmed.

Her eyes had changed from their normal brown colour to a glowing silver.

Her skin and clothes were faintly shining with that same shade of silver.

She wasn't normal. Not anymore.

"No." She whimpered, falling to her knees.

_"No, no, no."_ Her voice cracked with emotion. _Why?_ Why did she have to survive? The fall should have killed her. But it didn't. The reason was obvious. It explained why she survived, and why she now glowed. But it couldn't be true! It _couldn't! WHY NOW!? WHY NOT BEFORE!? SHE COULD HAVE DONE THINGS DIFFERENTLY!_

Her hands grabbed at her hair, pulling at it tightly as she struggled to not completely break down. She numbly noted that she couldn't feel any pain from the action, despite how strongly she was pulling.

It wasn't fair. _It wasn't fucking fair!_ _NOTHING WAS FAIR!_

Her fists tightened and she glanced around, not even knowing what to do. Her anger filled her to the brim until she realized she didn't even know why she was so angry. She lashed out, punching the wall as hard as she could.

Nothing.

Well, technically not true. Her fist remained intact, despite the fact that she'd punched the brick wall hard enough that it probably would have broken bones. She could feel the impact on her skin, the sensation of the rough brick against her skin, but there was no real force. It was like her fist had simply stopped the moment her fist touched the wall. There was nothing meaningful. Not even the sudden tingle, the silver glow around her knuckles, or the sudden rush of warmth meant anything.

With a scream of pure emotion she punched the wall over and over again, ignoring the warm tingling and silver light that came with each attempt. The warmth was almost comforting, it almost calmed her. But all it really served to do was remind her of what had happened.

With a final scream, accompanied by a surge of warmth, Taylor punched the wall again.

A glowing silver fist penetrated through the wall and into the building on the other side. At the same time, the warmth she'd been feeling diminished.

Heavy breaths pumped in and out of her lungs. It wasn't from exertion, she didn't feel tired even after trying to beat up a wall, but rather from emotion. She was sad, angry, confused, and scared.

She pulled her hand from the wall, backing away with eyes locked on the hole she had made. She wasn't worried about anyone being on the other side. The building was just as abandoned as the hotel she now leaned against.

She slid down the wall, too upset to care about the filth on the ground.

She was exhausted. Not physically, but emotionally. The attempted suicide, the realization she was still alive, the discovery that she was now a _cape_ had drained her completely.

With a deep exhale she closed her eyes, now emptied of their tears, and leaned her head back against the wall.

* * *

Taylor sat there for a long time. It felt like hours to her. It may very well have been, for all she knew. She had no phone nor watch with which to check the time. Not that she cared. She was too lost in her own thoughts to care.

_Regret._

That pretty much summed up everything she felt. She regretted _so much,_ and now, at her lowest moment in her life, it was all brought to bear at the front of her mind.

She regretted not doing more to fight back against her bullies, for just taking it all. Had she actually succeeded in her suicide, it meant they would have won. She didn't care before, but regretted it now.

She regretted jumping. Trying to kill herself. Now that she had done it, and survived unharmed, she felt nothing but regret for her actions. There had been a brief moment, where she'd felt happy and accomplishment. But as she raced towards the ground, it was dashed by feelings very similar to the helplessness and depression she felt before she jumped. Death would have solved her problems, she knew that. But she wished she'd tried to find a different solution first. Death was the easy way out. The cowards way.

Most of all, she regretted how thoroughly she'd disconnected herself from her father. Aside from a few conversations at dinner and during the weekend, they'd had little interaction with one another. After her mother had died, their relationship had all but shriveled up and died. She wished she'd done things differently. She wished she'd tried to repair what had been lost between them.

Her fists clenched. She pressed them into her eyes, struggling to remain composed.

She would've given anything, _anything,_ to talk to her father just one last time. Just to tell him that she loved him, and that while she was angry at him for shutting down on her after mom died, she understood why. She wanted to apologize for doing the same, and not trying harder to reconnect with him. She wanted to say she was sorry for lying to him every time she said "good" after he asked how her day at school had been. She just wanted to hug him, and hear him tell her he loved her, and that everything would be alright. _Just one last time._

A strangled sob escaped her. Tears formed in her eyes.

_"I'm so sorry."_ She whispered into the air, but no one was around to hear her. Least of all her father.

She knew she needed to get up. She needed to get better. She needed to make all his effort to care for her mean something. She _refused_ to let it all be for nothing anymore.

Galvanized by her thoughts, she got to her feet, growling angrily at herself for giving up so easily, both now and in the past. Her father wouldn't have wanted her to stay there, sitting in a dirty ally forever. She felt the need to act. To do something.

Taylor breathed deeply and wiped away her tears. She rubbed her eyes with her index finger and thumb, but pulling away she noticed the silver glow encompassing her hand.

Taylor stopped for a moment, thinking.

She had powers. _Actual powers!_ She remembered her time as a little girl, when all she'd wanted to be was a hero. She remembered tieing a blanket around her neck and running around her house, pretending to be Alexandria, much to the amusement of her parents. She remembered talking with Emma constantly about who their favorite hero was, and what powers they would've wanted if they were capes. Emma had always picked Legend, citing him as handsome. Taylor always picked her favorite, Alexandria, considered one of the best heroes and one of the most powerful capes in the world.

She glanced down at her hands again, still glowing a light silver.

_She had powers!_

Taylor felt almost giddy as she began to inspect herself.

The silver coating covered her hands and her clothes, almost like a coating or a second set of skin. She couldn't actually feel it. There was no sensation of something covering her skin, and when she tried to touch it, normal skin was all she felt.

She looked at the wall, where she'd punched a hole in the wall. The first few punches hadn't been anything significant, other then the fact that she'd felt no pain and felt warmer with each punch. Her last punch though, she'd felt a sudden surge of warmth, and her fist had glowed.

The new cape shut her eyes, trying to focus on that warmth. With each strike she'd felt it. She knew she could feel it again.

It only took a moment for her to find it. It was like a bonfire burning in her chest, a constant warmth that had the capability to spread to her entire body. It was comforting, somehow.

Taylor focused more on the warmth, trying to touch it somehow, to coax it out like she had before.

Like a dog eager to please its master, the warmth responded quickly. The entire store of it exited her chest, leaving it feeling hollow, empty, and slightly uncomfortable. The warmth instantly spread out to warm her entire body. She opened her eyes, seeing that the silver coating around her had enriched, the silver becoming more vibrant.

She turned herself around, looking over herself. Nothing else had changed physically, but she did feel more... Powerful. Stronger. Like she could take on the world. She couldn't stop a small smile at the sensation.

Taylor then tried absorbing the warmth back into her. It worked just as well, pulling every bit of the silver warmth from around her body back into her chest. The warm feeling on her skin left her, along with the silver glow. It was with the disappearance of the silver glow that she realized she'd been unconsciously allowing a small amount of the warmth to leak from her chest and around her body. She made a mental note to keep a tighter lease on it. The thought of spontaneously glowing while she walked down the street was not an appealing one.

Deciding to experiment further, she called the warmth back out, and the silver glow returned. She turned to face the wall, steadying herself. Taking a breath, she punched it.

There was no hole. No damage at all, actually. But maybe that was because now she didn't want to crush her hand and subconsciously slowed her fist before impact. She did, however, note that the empty void in her chest was suddenly filled with a small amount of warmth.

Since there was no pain, Taylor decided to take a risk, closed her eyes to stop the automatic and instinctual urge to slow her hand, and punched the wall as hard as she could.

Still no pain, and still no hole. But another, larger increase in warmth in her chest.

Taylor frowned, letting the warmth coating her body seep back into her chest again, eliminating her silver glow. She stared down at her fist, knowing that there had to be something more to it. More then just spreading the warmth everywhere. So she focused on the single sudden increase in warmth rather then the whole store.

She found that she was able to take that small addition, collect it separately from the rest of the warmth, and after a few more moments of experimentation, realized she could channel it specifically around her body, rather then just spreading it everywhere.

She smiled, channeling the warmth into her fist, making it glow slightly brighter then the rest. She reared her arm back and punched the wall again.

There was still no damage to the brick wall, but this time there wasn't a shift in warmth either. No increase nor decrease.

Puzzled, Taylor took two piece of warmth and punched the wall again. This time, the stockpile of warmth in her chest decreased a similar amount as what she'd gained from one punch.

She hummed curiously to herself, repeating the experiment twice more with three and four bursts. She lost two and three punches worth of energy respectively, decreasing the main store each time. She began to realize how it was working.

Each 'unwarmed' punch added to the warmth. Punching with one punch worth of warmth gained her one punch worth, but also used up one punch worth, thereby canceling each other out. But taking more then one punch worth of warmth meant that she was using up more warmth then she gained, decreasing the store.

She reared her fist back once more, this time taking half the warmth she had in total and channeled it into her fist.

Like before, her fist went clean through the wall.

Taylor was by no means stupid, despite what her grades at Winslow might've said. It seemed like she had some sort of damage absorption powers. With every hit she took, it added to the internal store of 'warmth' in her body. She could then utilize that warmth and use it to transfer the damage she received from more then one source onto something else.

… At least, she _thought_ that was her power. If it was, that was _awesome_. The significance of the fact that she was living in a town which was considered the cape capital of the USA, one with seriously heavy hitters, and she potentially had a damage absorbing power wasn't lost on her. She had the potential to go head to head with someone like Hookwolf. Hell, maybe even Lung!

Of course, this was all speculation. She knew she needed more time to experiment and determine the exact specifications of her power. She certainly wouldn't go jumping off any more buildings any time soon.

Taylor couldn't help but smile at the sight, the fact that she had powers, _real powers_ , finally settling in.

Then she remembered what led her to gaining her powers, and her mood instantly dampened.

She swallowed hard. Her arm came up to her face, pressing against her mouth to keep the sobs back.

It wasn't worth it. The cost of her powers would never be worth it.

"Dad." She whispered. "I miss you." It may have only been a few hours since she'd seen him that morning, but it had been so much longer since she'd seen the actual him, back before mom had died. Back then, he'd been happy and fun, with a great sense of humor. That had all died with his wife, leaving just a shell of his former self.

She hadn't been much better though, becoming all but dead to the world. It had been the first time she'd felt such grief, and didn't know how to cope other then shutting down. Even after recovering, so many of the things she'd once loved doing she no longer found joy in. Drawing, building crafts, even playing her mother's flute, all had seemed dull and unfulfilling to her.

With both of them barely held together, neither had tried to fix things, leaving their relationship a barely maintained bond based on the fact that they only had each other left. She just wished they'd taken more comfort from each other in that fact then they actually had. Especially now that it was too late.

She swallowed her sobs, instead letting out a labored breath. What mattered now was that she had powers. A strong one as well. She now had the potential to make an honest to god difference in the city. She could help people. She could be useful. She could actually be important. She could be someone other then weak, wimpy Taylor. She-

Her thoughts, as focused as they were, weren't enough to keep her from hearing a sudden explosion, and seeing a fireball erupt in the distance, bathing the sky and the rooftops around it with orange light.

She simply stared at the dissipating fireball for the first few seconds. Her first instinct was to avoid it. But then she remembered, she had powers. Maybe she could help. Besides, she was also curious. Her feelings hadn't stopped her ability to feel curiosity.

Taylor sighed. "Fuck it." She decided to investigate, running out of the ally in the direction of the fireball.

* * *

Taylor soon found herself at the epicenter. It was immediately apparent to her that whatever had happened, it happened at what was once an office building of some sort. She crossed the street across from the office parking lot, stopping beside what had once been entrance booth, but was now too mangled to ever function as one again. No one was around, of course. There wouldn't be considering how late it had to be.

The place looked like a war zone. There was a massive hole in the front of the decently sized office building, which was on fire. The parking lot and plaza in front of the building was also marked with dozens of craters, some of which were also on fire. She could feel the heat through her clothes, radiating across her skin.

Despite the large storm of confusion and emotions swirling around inside her, it still wasn't enough to smother the surprise she felt at seeing a place with such damage. She'd seen pictures of places that had sustained far worse, courtesy of the Endbringers, but it was the first time she'd seen a place suffer such damage with her own eyes. She began to look around, considering what might have caused the damage.

Once more she was brought out of her thoughts as she saw movement coming from the hole in the building.

What she saw made her want to gasp, scream, cry, and laugh all at the same time.

A mammoth of a man, wearing nothing but a pair of blue jeans and a metal dragon mask, with huge muscles and tattoos all over his body, was walking out of the building, dragging with him two objects in each of his hands. The first was a clearly dead dog, mangled and burnt so badly she couldn't even tell what breed it was. In the other, was a girl. Like the dog she also was mangled and burnt, but not to the same degree. Unlike the dog, she appeared to still be alive. It was proven when she saw the girl weakly struggled against her captor.

_Her captor._

Taylor's fists clenched and her teeth grinded together in fury as she recognized exactly who it was.

_Lung._ A powerful villain, crime lord, and most importantly, leader of the _fucking ABB._

It took all her willpower to not act. She desperately wanted to lash out. To attack. To hurt the leader of the gang that had taken her father away from her. Her mind told her to despite the obvious danger. But her instincts said otherwise as she took in the appearance of the girl he was carrying. As much as she wanted to hurt him, there was no guarantee of a quick victory... Or a quick death if the girl's appearance was any indication.

She racked her mind for information. She remembered a little about the man. She'd once watched a TV special on Brockton Bay, where they'd talked about how Brockton Bay was the cape capital of the USA. Lung had his own section of the program where they'd discussed nothing but him. From what she could remember, she knew the man was able to turn into a literal dragon, had managed to fight off the Endbringer Leviathan, and was widely considered the most powerful cape in Brockton Bay. But what exactly were his powers?

If she recalled correctly, it was transformation. He could turn into a dragon, and could regenerate crazy amounts of damage. She remembered that much. And based on the area around her, unless the girl he was holding was a pyrokinetic cape that burned herself, he could also breath fire. He could turn into a dragon, so that made sense.

Her thoughts were derailed as he suddenly stopped, dropping the dead dog to the ground and pulling a phone from his pocket. He held it up, his face and emotions hidden by the mask he was wearing, remaining silent as whoever was on the other side spoke. A moment later, he hung up, pocketing the phone and taking off at a steady pace to the opposite side of the parking lot from her, past the burning office building and towards the ocean.

Taylor watched him, the beginnings of an idea forming in her head.

She took a deep breath, knowing full well how stupid it was. Nonetheless, for all her caution, she still found herself desperately curious to know what he was doing. Who was the girl? Why had Lung attacked her? What was he planning to do with her?

Would he kill her?

Logic suggested that he probably would, if the wounds didn't first. A person didn't do that kind of damage to someone if they were concerned about their wellbeing.

Part of her said she had to follow him. Maybe she could do something to save the girl's life, as unlikely as it was.

But as Lung walked off, the other part of her forced her eyes past Lung and to the damage all around her.

The man was a literal beast, killing anyone and destroying anything he wanted. When he'd first come to Brockton bay, the first thing he did was beat the entire protectorate cape team stationed there. If _they_ had been incapable of beating Lung in combat, then what chance did _she_ have at saving the girl?

She looked back at Lung.

But if she ignored the situation, and Lung did kill the girl, and she could've done something to prevent it, the girl's blood would be on her hands.

She let out another deep breath as she made her decision.

If she was going to die someday, then dying to save another's life was a good way to do it, she supposed. At least maybe then her death would mean something.

As quietly as she could, she walked around the booth and followed after Lung.

* * *

Eventually, after just a few minutes, Lung arrived at the old ferry station.

It had once been a popular tourist attraction, raking in plenty of money for the city before she'd been born. But then with the arrival of Leviathan and the subsequent birth of the boat graveyard, funds dried up and the station shut down. It was clearly suffering the signs of neglect from its years of disuse. The paint was worn down, windows were boarded up, and even the large parking lot had weeds growing from it.

Speaking of the parking lot, she saw the reason Lung had decided to come in it. There was a group of six people, five of which were clearly ABB members based off their traditional clothes and tattoos and the fact that they were all holding assault rifles. The sixth was a girl in a black suit sitting cross-legged on the ground.

Peering from the dark alley around the building she was hiding behind, she stared at the group of people Lung was currently walking towards. They weren't that far away, only about fifteen meters or so. Plenty close enough for Taylor to take in the appearance of the girl.

She immediately noticed how much better her condition was compared to the first girl. Her only obvious injuries consisted of a cut over her right eye, which leaked blood down her face over her eye, and a gunshot wound to the shoulder. The girl was blonde, and her eyes were bright green. She wore a purple skintight suit with black markings, and had a stylized T on the front. Her appearance screamed _cape,_ though she had no idea who. She'd never heard of nor seen the girl before. On her hip was a empty handgun holster, which even if it wasn't empty would've been difficult for her to use with both hands taped together. She also had a strip of tape across her mouth.

Lung unceremoniously dumped the first girl on the ground next to the bound cape. Both she and Taylor could now take a good look at her injuries. Being so much closer, she was able to see in detail what the girl looked like. She had to fight not to throw up.

She had a squarish, blunt-featured face with thick eyebrows, the left of which had been burned away along with the eye itself. Her auburn hair was mostly left alone, aside from some parts being singed. Her right arm was bent unnaturally, clearly wore a heavy black jacket with a hood, heavy boots, and grey jeans. Her clothing had suffered substantial fire damage, revealing skin that was at some points just dark red, but more often then not was just blackened and charred. At some points it looked as though her clothes had actually melted into her skin. The left side of her body seemed to have taken the majority of the damage.

Taylor put a hand over her mouth and ducked back, breathing slowly through her nose as she considered what she could do. There was no way to get the girl away from Lung. Not with him being so close. Calling the PRT was obviously the best choice, but she didn't have a phone. And by the time they arrived, the girl might already be dead.

She observed the girl again, as much as it hurt to do so. Despite the damage and the undoubtable pain she was suffering from her injuries, she somehow found the strength to shoot a constant hate filled glare at Lung with her one remaining eye. She looked like she wanted to say something, but when she opened her mouth only wet coughs came out.

Lung seemingly didn't notice or simply didn't care for the girls actions. Instead crossing his arms he stood there silently, as though waiting for something.

The blonde cape's first reaction to seeing the state of the first girl was that of horror as she saw the damage done to the girl. The next reaction was surprising to Taylor. Rather then fear or apprehension appearing in her eyes, it was instead filled with what was clearly anger, yet also consideration. She glared at Lung with furious eyes, ones that also seemed to inspect and observe every aspect of the man with an almost unnatural level of scrutiny. The consideration on her face, accompanied by the fast movements of her eyes as they roamed over every detail of the man wasn't something she'd expected from the girl considering her situation.

_"Definitely a cape."_ She thought to herself.

"Where are the other three?" Lung suddenly asked, his heavily accented voice as intimidating as his appearance. It was unsurprisingly deep, gravely, and commanding.

The gangsters seemed to think the same, as they all minutely flinched.

"Oni Lee is going after them now boss, along with the rest of the men. He managed to kill the dog thing she was riding on, but the other one got away with the two guys on it. We lost the girl to, but I'm sure Lee will get them soon." One of the men answered.

Lung merely hummed in consideration, turning his attention down to the blonde girl. He stared at her for a moment, something which she copied, before he reached forwards and roughly tore the tape from the girl's face.

The girl winced and hissed, but otherwise gave no reaction, continuing to glare at Lung.

The dragon man ignored it, crossing his arms and staring the girl down. "Where do your friends flee to?" He questioned.

The girl scoffed. "How am I supposed to know? I'm here, aren't I?" She answered, her face impassive despite the glare.

Taylor had to stifle her gasp as Lung suddenly backhanded the girl with an audible smack. Her face jerked to the side with the force of the hit, but quickly returned to continue her glare, a growing red welt on her cheek.

"Where is the money you stole from me?"

She shrugged impassively, as though she hadn't just been smacked. "Spent it all already. Sorry."

Lungs eyes narrowed. Another hit. Another welt. Another glare.

"Do you believe this to be some sort of game?" He questioned.

The girl shrugged again. "Pretty much, yeah. We all play the same game of cops and robbers, don't we?" She asked with a cheeky smile and an impudent tone.

In a split second, he had reached and grabbed the girl's bicep, hard.

The girl gasped, whimpering slightly as Lung roughly lifted her to and off her feet, suspended by nothing but his grip. Even from her alley, she could see how tightly he was gripping her.

"You _will_ tell me everything I want to know, or you will suffer. Do you understand me?" He questioned. Whether it was from the pain or simply stubbornness, she didn't answer.

Then the screaming started.

Taylor's hands wrapped over her mouth to stop her own scream from escaping. Lung had ignited his hand in flames, burning away the cloth and flesh covering her arm. She backed into the alley, pressing her back against the wall and covering her ears, unable to watch and listen.

It didn't help.

She still heard Lung's booming voice even with her ears covered. "Did you truly think that I would allow your actions to go unpunished?"

Taylor slid down the wall and curled in on herself as the volume of the screams increased.

"Until your friends are found, I will make you _suffer_ in their place!"

She ground shook with a meaty smack, accompanied by more screams of pure agony.

She pressed her face to her knees.

_"Oh god, what should I do?"_ She practically cried into her head. _"Think Taylor, Think!"_

She couldn't call the police, they were useless in this situation. She couldn't call the Protectorate, they'd never arrive in time. She couldn't cause a distraction, it would only be a temporary solution. She couldn't fight back, she was just-

_"... Just Taylor,"_ she had been about to think.

Except...

She _wasn't._ Not anymore.

She wasn't _just Taylor_ anymore.

_Warm._

She felt warm.

The Cape could could feel it in her chest. It had always been there, she'd felt it, but now she could really _feel_ it. It felt familiar. It churned and swirled unnaturally within her. It longed to escape-No. Not to escape. To be used. To be adapted and changed into a form she could use.

The warmth expanded, spreading out as a silver aura coating her skin. She _glowed_ with silver warmth.

Another scream.

Taylor clenched her fists, rising to her feet. How dare he.

_How dare he._

Lung had no right to decide who lived and who died. Who suffered and who did not.

He didn't get to decide that the girl should suffer and die.

He didn't get to decide that her father should have died.

He didn't get to decide that she should suffer as an orphan.

Her heart throbbed and her lungs burned.

Lung was the cause. He was at fault.

He was the cause of her suffering.

_And she would make him pay._

She snapped.

She didn't remember rushing from her hiding place. She didn't remember if she stopped for even a moment to consider how undeniably stupid her plan was.

She _did,_ however, remember the sight and sensation of Lungs metal dragon mask crumpling like paper beneath her silver fist.

She relished the moment her fist smashed into Lung's face with a satisfying crunch and the sight of him going flying.

Immediately following the impact, the warmth in her chest dulled. She'd used so much of it to hit Lung it was almost entirely extinguished. Down from a burning inferno to a warm blaze as the silver glow around her faded. There was no time to consider the significance of this though, as she finally realized just what she'd done, and where she was.

She'd just punched Lung, _Lung_ of all people, in the face and sent him flying meters away to the ground.

She was in the middle of a lot with ABB members holding rifles.

She was the only thing standing between two injured girls and a rapidly regenerating, angry dragon and five men loyal to said dragon wielding assault rifles.

_"Fuck."_

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So? How is it? Did you like it? Did I make any mistakes? Do you see areas I can improve? Do you have anything to say at all? Please let me know.


End file.
